


breathe, kid we're here for you

by spiderfool



Series: breath kid, we're here for you [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Angst, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Domestic Discipline, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, M/M, No Sex, Parent Bucky Barnes, Parent Steve Rogers, Spanking, Therapy, Unreliable Narrator, steve and bucky both have ptsd and tbh so does peter, therapy discussions, this is not smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:41:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27664868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiderfool/pseuds/spiderfool
Summary: Peter Parker had been in the foster system practically his entire life before he met the Rogers-Barnes couple, and to say the least it wasn't great. But there was something different about this couple; they actually cared about the children that they fostered and wanted nothing but for them to succeed.this fic contains disciplinary spanking of a teen so pls be warnedthere is absolutely NO sex in this fic. the relationship between Steve and Bucky and Peter is entirely that of a family.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Peter Parker, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers
Series: breath kid, we're here for you [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2189979
Comments: 34
Kudos: 164





	1. Chapter 1

Peter had been to plenty of foster homes so far at the ripe old age of sixteen and he could usually tell if things were going to go south. But for some reason, he really couldn’t tell how things were going to go with this one. His social worker, Sam, said he knew the couple personally and that they were good people, but something felt weird about this one. And for once Peter couldn’t put a finger on what exactly was bothering him. 

“I don’t know, I just. I don’t know. I feel weird about this one, Sam” he told the man as they were driving. The boy wasn’t making eye contact, too distracted watching the streets of Brooklyn roll by, a much nicer area than he was used to living in. “I just don’t have that great a feeling about it.”

Sam let out an exasperated sigh. “You don’t feel good about any of them, kid. And with good reason. But Pete, I  _ know _ these guys. They’re my friends. And I know that they would  _ never  _ mistreat any kid in their care. Especially not a kid like you.” They’ve pulled into the driveway of a very expensive looking townhouse and Sam’s put the car in park and is looking pointedly at the back of Peter’s head. He can feel the intensity of the stare. Slowly, reluctantly, he meets Sam’s eyes. He could cry from how much adoration is in Sam’s eyes. God, he can feel the hard exterior he’s worked so long to build up cracking around the edges the longer Sam stares. The kid cracks.

“You really think so?”

“I know so.” The man says, looking into Peter’s eyes with a significant amount of sincerity. Peter’s always loved that about Sam; he really does care about these kids. Peter has seen several social workers come and go. It’s par for the course when you’re in the system. But never has he met a social worker who actually talks to the kids like they care, actually  _ does something _ when their kids tell them there’s something wrong. He is much luckier than so many other kids, Peter tells himself all the time.

“C’mon.” Sam’s voice and the sound of the driver’s door opening pulls Peter out of his train of thought. He opens his door, stepping out into the warm Brooklyn air that’s usually not this nice in late August. “I’m gonna get your bag out from the trunk, go ahead and knock on the door. They’re expecting us.”

_God is he really gonna make me introduce myself_ by myself? Peter thinks to himself, shoving his backpack over his shoulder. He looks hesitantly at the door, but eventually works up the willpower to make his way up the steps to the door and raise his fist to knock. There’s a few moments of silence and a deep, sinking feeling of dread on Peter’s part, but he doesn’t get to dwell on it too long before the door swings open revealing a blonde man. A _huge_ blonde man. And he’s got the dopiest grin Peter’s ever seen on a new foster parent. 

“Hi, Peter! We’re so happy to have you. Come on in!” He steps aside in the hallway, allowing Peter to walk in front of him and into the house which, yeah, as Peter expected from the caliber of the neighborhood on the drive by is  _ definitely _ expensive. “Go ahead into the living room on your right, Bucky’s waiting for you. I’m going to go help Sam with your bags and I’ll be right in.” Bucky, he said.  _ The fuck kind of name is Bucky?  _

Peter doesn’t pay the weird name any mind, instead walking down the hallway and into the living room on the right. He had to quickly force his face into a neutral expression, not wanting to look classless with his shock from how nice it was: beautiful hardwood that was in the hallway as well, a huge flatscreen mounted above what looked like a real fireplace, a window looking out onto the street and a window looking at the side of the next door neighbor’s house, and a set of beautiful grey couches that matched the warm brown tone of the walls beautifully, one of which housed a man who looked a  _ lot _ more intimidating than the blonde man who greeted Peter at the door. He was big, like the blonde guy, but he was  _ beefy _ . He had steely blue eyes, long brown hair pulled up into a lazy bun, and pouty lips that belied his intimidating nature. Bucky, he presumed. Peter stopped at the threshold of the room, unsure of whether he should sit, or say hi, or what. He didn’t have to stand there long before the man spoke up.

“Hey, kid. I’m Bucky, which I’m sure you already knew. Why don’t you come sit?” His voice was way gentler than Peter expected. It was almost as if his voice was hesitant as not to startle the kid.  _ Weird _ . Peter slowly made his way over to the couch facing the fireplace and the tv, taking his bag from his shoulder and setting it next to his feet as he sat down. Bucky didn’t say anything for a few seconds that really felt like eons.  _ Why the fuck is he just staring at me? _

“I didn’t know the floor was that interesting, kid.” Bucky quipped with a chuckle. Peter huffed, fighting hard not to roll his eyes.  _ Here we go _ . He just kept staring at the floor, fixing the wood with a scowl.

“Kid–”

“I have a fucking name you know.” Peter spat looking up to glare at Bucky, sick of this twisted mind game already.  _ Yeah go ahead and make fun of the foster kid for not wanting to open up first thing _ . 

“Hey, you don’t need to take that tone with me, pal. You just got here. You don’t even know me yet.”

“Yeah and you sure as hell don’t know me.” Bucky visibly bristled at this. 

  
“Peter, I don’t know anything about the other homes you’ve been in, and I’m aware of how shitty they can be. But you can’t speak to me like that. You can’t speak to either of us like that,” Bucky admonishes. But his voice softens with his next words, “I won’t give you a lecture about it being disrespectful because I know respect is a two way street and we haven’t done anything yet to earn respect from you. But please. Let us earn it. And in turn you earn trust from us. We want to get to know you. We open our home because we care about kids like you, and we want to help. So please.” He trails off, seemingly looking a bit unsure of himself. He sighed, his eyes taking on a sad look. It seemed the universe didn’t want to allow Peter time to analyze anything about today as once again his incoming thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door slamming shut, Steve and Sam scrambling through the door with the one suitcase Peter had. Muffled words permeated the air, the sound of Sam pounding up the stairs with the suitcase, then Steve was coming through the archway into the living room and smiling at Peter as he sat down on the same couch as him, a bit too close for Peter’s comfort. 

“Hey, bud. Hey Buck.” the man clasped his hands together, as if preparing himself for a speech. Which he definitely was. “So we should probably talk about a few things before we get you settled in.”

“First of all, we should– crap, excuse my manners! I completely forgot to introduce myself. My name’s Steve Barnes-Rogers. Sorry about that Pete.”  _ Was he actually apologizing about that? His name? _

“It’s fine,” the kid mumbled.

“Well, any-who, we should just talk about general ground rules for the house. While you’re here you’re expected to keep your room tidy, which we’ll show you to your room in a bit. And about cleaning just try to clean up after yourself. In terms of chores, we don’t really have any for you, but we may ask you to do the dishes or something every once in a while.”

  
“You’re expected to go to school and we’d like to try as hard as you’re able to produce good grades. If you’re not doing so hot in school or you need help with your classes, just tell us. We’ll do our best to get you the help you need with your work.”

“I think you’ll find that we’re not really very strict at all. We want you to have friends, we want you to hang out with them, we want you to be happy. But you will mess up, all teenagers do, and it’s completely okay, but let’s talk about consequences if you do. We may not be super strict, but I think you’ll find our consequences are a bit different from most families. Typically if the offense is minor, you’ll probably just get grounded for a couple days. But we do believe in spanking here.”

Peter’s head snapped up at that, his eyes wide. He stared at Steve in shock, panic creeping into his expression.  _ Spanking? Seriously? Is it 1940? _

“Don’t look so panicked, Pete. We won’t hurt you–”

“You  _ just  _ said you’re gonna beat me if I mess up!” Steve just shook his head.   


“No, I said we’re going to  _ spank _ you if you misbehave. We don’t beat kids.” Peter scoffed. It’s not like he’s never been beat up before, but he’s never met foster parents so bold as to say they  _ won’t _ beat him when they clearly will.

“Listen, Pete–” Steve stopped talking at the sound of Sam coming back down the stairs, feet stomping down the hardwood. 

“Alright kid,” he started as he came into the living room. “I put your suitcase in your room and took a little look around. It’s a nice space. So you’re all set.”

“No, no Sam, wait–” Peter pleaded.

“Peter, c’mon. I told you. I know these guys. You’ll be okay, I promise.” Peter couldn’t stop the panicked tears already gathering themselves in his eyes. He stood up, crossing the room to crash into Sam, clinging onto the man for dear life.    


“Sam, please. Please, please, please don’t leave me here.  _ Please. _ ” Sam sighed, wrapping his arms around the kid.

“It’s okay, Pete. I promise.” He started rubbing his hands up and down Peter’s back. “I’m always just a phone call away. Seriously. You need me, I’m here.” He released the kid and put his hands on his shoulders.

“I’ll always be here for you, kid. But there’s only so much I’m allowed to do and you know this. If you need anything and I mean  _ anything _ , you call me right away. Alright?” the man spoke sincerely (as he always did) but it did nothing to placate the kid. But he knew any attempts at leaving would be futile. So he nodded his head and didn’t cling to him any longer. “Alright, kid. I’m coming to eat lunch with you guys next week so we can catch up and you can let me know how you’re doing. Be good.” And with that, Sam was giving his goodbyes to Steve and Bucky and out the front door. 

Peter sunk back into the couch, absolutely defeated. He tried to sniff inconspicuously but he couldn’t hide the tears escaping from his eyes. But for once, there was actual sympathy oozing from the other two men in the room. Steve put his hand on Peter’s shoulder.

“Hey, I know how hard this can be, bud. My mama died when I was fifteen and I was in foster care for two years before I found a home. I know how stressful this can be. It’s okay to cry, buddy.” Peter didn’t respond, though, light sobs racking his body.

“You want some time to yourself?” And wow. He was actually being considerate. Holy shit.  _ Uh, okay. _ The kid nodded.

“Alright, buddy. Let’s get you to your room.” Steve rose to his feet, resting a hand on Peter’s back, guiding him up the stairs. The stairs lead up to a hallway with three four doors, two on each side. There’s a decorative table at the end of the hallway against a large window looking out on the Brooklyn streets and it’s got a bunch of pictures on it. Steve and Bucky in various cute couples poses, them kissing, them at their wedding, an older woman Peter can only assume is his late mother. It was cute.

Steve led him to the second door on the left, opening the door into his room. It was pretty big and minimally decorated with a dresser and night tables that matched the queen sized bed. The bed was set in the center of the room below a window, the dresser across the room from the bed with a mirror mounted above it. The walls were a light, ashy blue that matched the grey drapes by the window. There was a closet on the left with basic clothing choices, a few old pairs of shoes. Peter’s suitcase was sitting at the foot of the bed. 

“We tried to clean it up a little bit and decorate but we left enough so that you can decorate it how you want. If you don’t like the color of the walls we can paint ‘em too.” He led Peter to the bed, where Peter plopped down, exhausted. Steve put his hand on the kid’s shoulder once more. “Alright, kiddo. Take some time for yourself, lie down, take a nap, settle in. The bathroom’s the first door in the hall, right next to this one. One of us will come get you for dinner. Come get us if you need anything, okay?” Peter nodded, and that seemed to be enough for Steve. He smiled at Peter before making his way out of the room and shutting the door. 

_God, this his already been a fucking disaster._ Peter couldn’t help but feel sorry for himself. He’d been in homes where he was yelled at, insulted, starved, beaten, but he never showed this much emotion. And he already lashed out at Bucky. He really did feel bad about it too. The guy was clearly just trying to crack a joke to lighten the mood and Peter had taken it way too seriously. What the fuck was it about this house? _Doesn’t fucking matter._ _I’m too tired for this shit._

Peter kicked his shoes off and turned onto his side on the bed, staring at absolutely nothing. The last thing he wanted was to forget this day, to leave. To where he had no idea. But he was tired of being taken from house to house wondering if he would ever find somewhere he was comfortable. If he was being honest, the kid lost hope years ago. But that didn’t really matter. This world was cruel. It didn’t care if everyone wanted their parents to live forever, it didn’t care how old a kid was when they lost their parents, and it certainly didn’t care if a kid ever found a forever home.  _ That’s life I guess _ . And it was that pessimistic thought that Peter drifted away on, barely letting himself relax, and letting his pure exhaustion take him over.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “C’mon, Pete, you gotta get up.” Steve said, gently. Peter opened his eyes. His room was dark, the only thing illuminating the room was the light from the hallway, casting a small glow on Steve’s back which was shielding Peter from the harshness of its glow. Peter sighed.

When Peter woke, it was to the insistent shaking of his shoulder. He groaned, rolling over without opening his eyes. 

“C’mon, Pete, you gotta get up.” Steve said, gently. Peter opened his eyes. His room was dark, the only thing illuminating the room was the light from the hallway, casting a small glow on Steve’s back which was shielding Peter from the harshness of its glow. Peter sighed.

“What time is it?” His voice was groggy from prolonged sleep, like he’d been asleep for hours.  _ God, how long did I sleep? _

“It’s a couple minutes past 7, bud. Dinner’s ready. Bucky wants us to eat together.” Interesting. Even after the kid’s little outburst that morning Bucky still wanted to eat with him.  _ This house just gets weirder and weirder.  _

“Okay. I’ll be down in a minute.” Steve nodded, turning to leave the room. When he was gone, Peter groaned, stretching and his back popping loudly. He got up slowly, making his way to the bathroom down the hall seemingly in a fog. The bathroom was nice just like the rest of the house, the walls an ash gray and decorated pleasantly. 

Turning on the tap, Peter splashed a bit of water on his face and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His hair was ruffled, sticking up in a few places and he had a crease from the pillowcase on his cheek. Gross. The kid took a deep breath, letting it out in a slow  _ whoosh _ before making his way from the bathroom, down the stairs and into the formal dining room where Steve and Bucky were sitting waiting for him.

“Hey, kid. You have a nice nap?” Bucky was sporting the same tender look on his face like when he first introduced himself to Peter that afternoon. 

“Uh, yeah.” The kid had no idea what else to say as he sat down, glancing at the plate of food sitting in front of him. Roast chicken, green beans, mashed potatoes, and a cup of water next to it. His stomach grumbled, protesting the lack of food and the absence of lunch. It was then that the kid realized he hadn’t eaten a single thing that day, having been too nervous to eat breakfast that morning. Forgoing his table manners, the kid dug right in. It wasn’t until he was halfway through digging into his plate that he looked up, noticing that no one was speaking.

“Uhm, sorry. I haven’t said anything to you guys.” He spoke quietly, as if scared he might offend the pair in front of him. 

“Why are you sorry, kid? You’re just eating.” Bucky’s brows were knit together in confusion, as if Peter had done absolutely nothing wrong. At the embarrassed look on the kid’s face he softened even more than Peter thought possible. “Look, Peter. Like I said before, I’m not really sure about your past home situations. But you eating will never be a problem. We have more than enough for everyone here and then some. We’ll never be mad at you for eating okay?”

Peter gave a terse nod, spurring Bucky to keep going on his mushy rant.

“And I’m sorry about earlier. I was just joking, but I didn’t know it would upset you. It was inappropriate of me to assume I could talk to you like that so soon. So I’m sorry.”

For a long moment, Peter had no idea what to say. He just stared at Bucky with wide eyes, his mind going blank. None of his foster parents had ever apologized to him. Even if they knew they were wrong. And here Bucky was, apologizing even when it wasn’t even his fault.

Bucky sighed at the lack of response from the kid, his eyes dropping to his plate, pushing food around on his plate.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Bucky,” Peter broke the silence, knowing he had to say something. “I was just scared to be here, and I was in a bad mood. You didn’t upset me, I promise.” Bucky gave a slight smile.

“Thanks, kid.”

Steve, who had been silent throughout this whole dinner, had this look on his face. Like he was proud or something.  _ Why, I have no idea.  _ The three of them kept eating, making no conversation throughout, and it was Steve that suggested the three of them sit in the living room to watch a movie. Peter agreed. So they all made their way to the living room and opened Netflix, commencing a debate on what to watch that night. Well, Steve and Bucky debated.

“Steve, we’re not watching a documentary. That’s boring as hell. You’re going to bore the kid.”   


“Buck, it’s educational! And they’re not boring! They’re interesting!”

“Stevie, I don’t want to watch a documentary about goddamn ice skating. It’s not even about Tonya Harding. And that was the only interesting thing about skating. Why don’t you just put on  _ I, Tonya _ ?”

“C’mon, Buck we’re not watching that tonight. And it’s rated R! Peter’s only 15!” Peter snorted at that. It was his favorite Margot Robbie film. Steve and Bucky kept quarreling over movie choices when a listing caught Peter’s eye.

“Why don’t we watch  _ The Other Guys _ ?” The couple paused in their arguing, and looked over at the kid. “Have you guys seen it before?”

“Nope.”

“No.”

“Cool! So we should watch it! It’s hilarious you guys will love it.” 

“Okay, Pete.” Steve smiled, snatching the remote from Bucky’s hand and pressing play on the movie.

Watching the movie was fun, all three of them dying with laughter when Dwayne Johnson and Samuel L. Jackson jumped from the roof in the beginning. It put Peter at ease, watching Steve and Bucky being so laid back and laughing and enjoying their time with each other. By the time the credits were rolling, Peter was just as relaxed as the couple. 

“So, Peter, did Sam tell you anything about the school situation?” Steve asked seemingly out of the blue.   


“Uh, yeah he said I have to start a new one because my old one is in another district.”

“Alright, okay. Well I just wanted to let you know that we enrolled you in another school already. And I’m gonna be honest with you, bud. We saw your grades. They’re fantastic.” Peter blushed. He knew he got good grades. But none of his previous foster parents had ever complimented him on them before. They always haranged him about “thinking he was smarter than them.” 

“Thanks?” The kid squeaked. “Thanks,” he said, his voice much lower pitched than before.

Steve chuckled at the kid’s flustered appearance. “So we enrolled you in Midtown High School. It’s a great school and it’s got advanced courses in practically everything. We think you’ll do well there.” Peter’s eyes widened at the mention of the school. It just  _ had _ to be expensive.

“Wait, no, the tuition has to be so expensive, though. I can’t make you pay for that!”

“Kid, believe me, we got a  _ lot _ of money to go around. There’s only three of us here. We can afford the tuition. Don’t worry about it.” Bucky chimed in. Before Peter could complain further, Steve spoke up again.

“You start school tomorrow at 9. And it’s gettin’ late. Go ahead and wash up and get to bed, pal.” 

“Uh, o-okay.” Peter got up, making his way upstairs and into his bedroom. His brain in a fog, he put on his pajamas, brushed his teeth, and was just plugging his phone in and laying down when there was a light knock on the door. At Peter’s permission, Steve and Bucky entered the room, standing next to each other by the door. 

“We just wanted to say good night, Peter. I’ll wake you up for class in the morning.” Steve said, ever the pragmatic one in this relationship.

“And uh, we just wanted to say we’re really glad to have you here, kid. And I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot earlier today.” Bucky added, looking sincere as ever.

“It’s okay, Bucky. We’re good.” Bucky nodded.

“Well good night, buddy. Sleep well.” And with that, the two left the room leaving Peter to his thoughts. 

Peter was almost scared to admit to himself that this has already been the best foster home he’d ever been in. Steve and Bucky were nice, they were polite, and they already seemed to care about him even though they barely knew him. Peter had never been overly materialistic– it was hard to be when you didn’t have much stuff in the first place– but their house was really nice. The bed was soft, clearly of a good quality, and god, he was tired. So Peter just let himself bask in the day, the tiredness that always came with moving yet again and he fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

Peter woke up to light shining in through the window behind his bed, his body waking up naturally. He stretched, groaning and popping a few bones. He reached over to the bedside table for his phone, noting that it was still pretty early, only 7:14. He could hear hustle and bustle downstairs, either Steve or Bucky clearly already wide awake. So was Peter’s body apparently. 

The kid decided not to just lay in bed anymore after spending a few minutes scrolling through Instagram, so he got up and made his way to the bathroom. After using the toilet and brushing his teeth, he padded down the stairs, making his way into the kitchen where the source of all the noise was.

“Hey, buddy, how’d you sleep?” Steve greeted him jovially, clearly a morning person. He was dressed in a tight fitting exercise shirt and matching pants like he’d already gotten up and went running this early in the morning.

“Fine,” was all Peter could muster. His body may have woken him up but that didn’t mean his head had caught up to being up this early. 

“Good.” Steve smiled brightly at the kid. “We’ve got coffee ready if you want some, and I was just about to cook. Are eggs and bacon okay?” Peter nodded his assent. And with that Steve went straight to cooking. 

The two of them were content to stay in comfortable silence, Peter scrolling through his phone at the breakfast bar and Steve humming quietly to himself as he worked. It wasn’t until the food was ready and Peter was contently digging into the food (which was great by the way) that Bucky made an appearance. Honestly he looked like a mess. His hair was in a bun on top of his head, a few flyaway strands framing his face, and he wore a scowl on his face as if the morning had personally attacked his mother. 

“Morning, honey!” Steve chirped. Bucky only grunted in response, making a beeline for the coffee pot and pouring himself a cup of black coffee and taking a sip as if the liquid was the key to life itself. Peter snorted at the scene.

“Finish up your plate, bud, and then get dressed so we can get you to school.” Steve redirected.

“Do I have to take the bus?” Peter wondered.

“Not today. There is a bus that comes a few blocks from here but I thought it’d be nice to drive you today. We can worry about the bus on another day, alright?” Peter nodded, eating a few last bites of his food and turning to go back upstairs. 

Rifling through his suitcase, Peter picked out a suitable pair of jeans and a t-shirt making a mental note to unpack when he gets home from school. The jeans were a bit worn in a few places, a few rips that can be easily mistaken for stylistic choices. The t-shirt was a real nerdy one, a Virtruvian rendition of a pizza. Peter grabbed his jacket, a simple blue zip up hoodie and sat on his bed to put his socks and shoes on. Walking into the bathroom to comb his hair, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. 

He looks okay. For once, he looks like he’s gotten a good night’s rest, his eyes no longer riddled with purple bags that look like bruises. Nodding to himself, Peter made quick work of styling his hair into a neat style, combing out any remnants of the curls that try to make their way into his appearance every day. When he was done, the kid made his way back to his room quickly, grabbing his backpack and stomping down the stairs.

By the time he was back in the kitchen, Steve was fully dressed in a plaid button down shirt and khakis, and Bucky was still in pajamas but looked significantly more awake. 

“Nice shirt,” he chuckled, looking up only briefly from his plate of eggs and bacon that Steve made him. Peter rolled his eyes good-naturedly. 

“You ready to go buddy?” Steve asked, ignoring Bucky trying to be funny.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

“Alrighty.”

Steve grabbed a satchel from where it was sitting on one of the breakfast stools and led the way to a door Peter somehow had never noticed in the house. He opened it and took the couple steps down into the garage, clicking his key fob to unlock the doors to his blue Subaru Outback. It looked brand new. Peter opened the passenger door, buckling his seatbelt as he waited for Steve to deposit his satchel in the back seat and join him in the front of the car. 

The ride to Midtown High was quite frankly hectic. Steve may not look the part, but the man drove like a maniac, cutting people off and honking any chance he got. 

By the time the two got to Midtown High, Peter’s nerves were through the roof. He’d started new schools just about a million times, but it never got any better as time went on. People still stared, still asked where he’d been the whole year, teachers still picked on him, the whole 9 yards. Peter’s brain was nothing but a jumble of anxiety when Steve pulled up to the curb of the school where several other parents were dropping their kids off as well. The older man put the car in park, turning to look Peter in the eyes.

“Alright, kiddo. I’ve got work at the VA until 4, so you’re going to be on your own for about an hour. It’s fine if you leave the school after class for a bit but I need you to be back here by the time I’m here. Can I trust you with that?”

“Uh, y-yeah. Yeah, you can,” Peter stammered. Why was Steve already testing him on like, his second day? Peter could literally just run off and do god knows what after school. None of his other foster parents had ever instilled trust like that in Peter or any kid for that matter.

“Okay. I’m gonna hold you to that. Take this,” Steve pulled out a twenty dollar bill. “So you can have some money on you in case you want to eat or something. Bucky and I will get a bank account set up for you some time this week so you have a card with money on it. And let me see your phone for just a second.” Peter looked at Steve wearily.

“I don’t want to look through it, bud. I just need to put me and Bucky’s phone numbers in just in case.” Reluctantly, Peter held out his phone and let Steve put the information in. 

“Alright. Your counselor said to just go to her office. Her name is Ms. Carter. She’ll give you your schedule and help get you situated.” Steve gave Peter a look that Peter couldn’t decipher. It was almost some sort of pride mixed with sadness?

“Okay. I’ve held you long enough, you’re going to be late. I’ll see you later, pal. Good luck on your first day.” Peter took that as his cue to grab his backpack and leave the car. Just before he could shut the door, Steve was calling out to him, “Remember, 4 o’clock!”

Peter waved awkwardly at Steve who waved back happily (of course) and watched him drive off the campus. Peter turned to face the entrance of the school, watching the other kids happily chatting amongst each other in groups outside, walking inside leisurely to class, books open scribbling down homework minutes before the bell. And he felt sick. He felt so sick. He couldn’t do this. 

The kid took a shaky breath, feeling his hands starting to tremble with how much he was fearing walking into that building. He turned back around. Frantically looked around, trying to find somewhere to walk to, to calm down. He took off, walking past the gate that surrounded the school, ignoring the administrator posted there telling him he couldn’t leave. He didn’t care. He just kept walking. 

Funny enough, when Peter gained enough sense to stop and look at his surroundings, he was right in front of a public library. He pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time:  _ 9:47 _ .  _ Well, shit. _ It was definitely too late to try and walk back to school without getting in trouble immediately. He was already at the library anyways.  _ Yeah. Library. Just gotta be back by 4. _

So the kid spent the day at the library. He pursued the books, skimming a few pages of books that were interesting looking. He browsed the movies and tv shows, making mental notes to come back another time and rent a few of them. He used one of the computers for a bit, just watching stupid videos on the internet. Around 2pm Peter left the library in search of somewhere to eat lunch. He ended up in a cute coffee shop a few blocks from the library, and there he ate a sandwich and drank an iced coffee in peace, the catastrophe of the morning forgotten. Which definitely shouldn’t have been forgotten, as Peter was casually scrolling through his phone until he noticed at the top of his screen that it was 3:40 and he had 2 missed texts from Steve.

_ From: Steve 11:32am: Hey buddy! Just checking in to make sure your day is going alright!  _ 😊

_ From: Steve 3:25pm: Just checking in again, bud. I’ll be there at 3:45, I got off work a bit earlier today. _

Fuck.

Peter abruptly stood up, grabbing his trash and his backpack and promptly ran out of the coffee shop, tossing the trash into a nearby bin on the street. He sprinted down the street, trying his best to remember his way back to the school. It didn’t really matter though. He’d never be back in time. 

It took Peter around twenty minutes to find his way back to campus, and he was not greeted with the happy-go-lucky Steve that he was first introduced to. This Steve was outside the car, leaning against it with his arms crossed and wearing an intensely aggravated expression.  _ Fuck _ . Peter had barely approached the man before Steve started lecturing.

“Where have you been? I told you to be back here by 4, Peter. You didn’t even text or call or _ anything _ .”

“I, uh, I was just-”

“You were just what? Skipping class?” Well shit. Steve was pulling no stops it seemed. Peter’s face went red with embarrassment. He hadn’t exactly been expecting Steve to call him out about skipping class (even though he probably should’ve been).

“I got a call from Ms. Carter. She said you never showed up to her office, and you never showed up for any of your classes today. You want to tell me where you’ve been?”

Well, no. Peter really didn’t want to tell Steve that he had skipped an entire day of school just to fuck around at the library all day. 

“I was. I-I was at the library,” Peter stuttered out. Steve raised an eyebrow and leaned his head forward, signalling to the kid to  _ go on. _

“That’s all. I was just at the library. I mean, I got lunch at a coffee shop too, but I swear I wasn’t doing anything bad.”

“Hm.” Steve nodded to himself. He looked Peter in the eyes once again, just like he had that morning, but in a much more intimidating fashion. “Are you telling me the truth?”

“Uh-”

“I mean it. Are you telling me the truth? Because I just need you to know Peter Parker, I won’t stand for lying. At all.” Well now Peter was well and truly intimidated.

“Yes. I’m telling the truth. I swear.” 

“Okay,” was all Steve said before he turned to get into the car, leaving Peter to scramble to get into the passenger seat. 

The entire ride back to Steve and Bucky’s house was silent, tension thick in the air, suffocating Peter with every breath. He kept trying to think of something, anything to say, but there was nothing. Just an overwhelming amount of regret. Steve had trusted him and Peter broke that within minutes of Steve leaving him by himself. Peter was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice the car pulling into the garage until sunlight was no longer in his eyesight. Steve put the car in park and turned once more to look at Peter. 

“Just so you know, we’re not done discussing this. You’re going to leave your phone right here with me, and you’re going to go straight to your room. Bucky and I will be up momentarily.” He took a pause. “Pete, I really hate to say this, but I’m very disappointed with you right now.”

“I’m sorry.” Peter mumbled, unable to meet Steve’s gaze. Steve sighed heavily.

“We’ll discuss that in a minute. For right now I just need you to go to your room, okay?” Peter nodded. He dropped his phone in Steve’s outstretched hand and got out of the car and made his way inside. He was barely a step into the house before his brain was screaming at him:

_ You really fucked this up. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i end up reposting this chapter and chapter 1 twice bc i was trying to fix the chapter names? yes.   
> did i end up reposting this chapter twice bc i forgot to put this note? also yes.  
> but whew this took me so long for absolutely no reason. i've been super stressed with school but the semester is almost over!! so i'll hopefully be posting a lot more of this fic!!  
> thanks to all of you who have read and left kudos and comments so far and i hope you enjoy this chapter!  
> (and yes peter is in Big Trouble)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To say Peter was nervous was an absolute understatement. Steve was mad, like pissed. And although he hadn’t yelled at Peter at any point, the kid had no doubt it was coming. It always came.

To say Peter was nervous was an absolute understatement. Steve was mad, like  _ pissed _ . And although he hadn’t yelled at Peter at any point, the kid had no doubt it was coming. It always came. Every single foster home Peter had been in they always shouted at him whether it was for something as small as forgetting to do the dishes or sneaking out at night. Peter didn’t really consider himself a bad kid, not like some of the other kids he had seen (not that he could really blame them). But he still got in trouble from time to time and he supposed he could be a bit difficult sometimes. He had literally snapped at Bucky only minutes into being invited into his home. 

Bucky had said that he didn’t hold a grudge and that  _ he _ was sorry but Peter found that hard to believe. It was hard to trust someone he barely knew especially after encountering so many that didn’t deserve anyone’s trust. But Steve and Bucky had been so good to him already.  _ And I’ve somehow already found a way to break their trust. _ Fuck. 

Peter spent at least 25 minutes in solitude with only his pessimistic thoughts before he heard a quiet knock on the door.

“Come in,” he said, voice wavering with timidness. The door creaked open and Steve and Bucky stepped in the room. Bucky was wearing a hard face lined with disappointment. Steve’s face didn’t show much emotion, perhaps trying to hide his anger. Peter almost wished he would just show him the anger so he could get it over with. Steve sat on the foot of the bed, Peter’s socked feet nearly brushing his thigh. Bucky pulled the desk chair over from across the room in front of Peter and took a seat sighing heavily. 

“So we’ve got some things we need to discuss, Pete,” Steve started. His voice wasn’t holding any traces of the anger Peter knew was on the way. He just sounded calm and level headed. 

“I know you know skipping school is unacceptable. But do you want to tell me why you didn’t go to class?” Huh.  _ Why the fuck is he asking me this? _

Making eye contact for the first time since the two had entered the room, Peter looked at Steve with confusion written all over his face. Was this some sort of trick question?

“What do you mean?” the kid settled for.

“I mean, why, when you know the action is frowned upon, why would you knowingly skip school? Sam’s told me all about you. He said you weren’t a bad kid, weren’t rebellious. Not that it’s necessarily a horrible thing for a foster kid to be rebellious. You guys go through a lot.” Steve looked kind of flustered. He was rambling. He realized this and cleared his throat, getting back on track. “Anyways. Sam told me you’re not the type to do things just to do them. So why did you skip school? You need to tell us if something’s wrong, Peter.”

Peter was dumbfounded. He had just skipped school, he was late, he had  _ disobeyed _ . And here Steve was asking him if something was wrong. Well something  _ was  _ wrong but still. Nobody else had ever cared if there was something more to his actions or his intentions. Still convinced that this wasn’t a trap, Peter steeled himself.

“I didn’t want to go.” Bucky scoffed at this.

“So lemme get this straight. You didn’t go to school because, what? You didn’t  _ feel like it? _ No offense, kid, but that sounds like horseshit.” Steve looked at Bucky in shock.

“Buck!”

“No, Steve, he's right. I just didn’t feel like it. I didn’t want to go. So I didn’t.” Steve sighed, shaking his head. 

“Peter, we all know that simply isn’t true. That doesn’t sound anything like what Sam said-”

“Well I guess you don’t fucking know me then.” Peter spat. He knew he was already in deep shit, but this was just ridiculous. Why was he acting like he was an expert on Peter’s mannerisms without even knowing him for a week?  _ This is bullshit _ . 

“Young man,  _ watch your mouth. _ ” Steve had raised his voice slightly, taking on a much more authoritative tone. “You can be angry, you can be upset, but you  _ cannot _ speak to either of us like that. It’s unacceptable.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Peter rolled his eyes. He had nothing else to say.

“Okay, well since you don’t want to discuss this any further let’s just get onto your punishment.” Peter inhaled sharply. Great. They were going to beat him.

“You’re getting a spanking, as I’m sure you already knew.”

“Yeah, apparently you guys get off on beating kids.” He was being snarky and disrespectful, he knew. But he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“Kid. Cut the shit. We’re not going to beat you. Steve’s going to spank you. Now stop being rude and listen to what he’s telling you.” Bucky spoke up. Steve accepted Peter’s silence, and kept talking.

“I’m not going to use an implement. I’m just going to use my hand. I’m not going to hit you anywhere but your butt, and I’m not going to be cruel. It’s going to hurt, but I’m not going to leave even one bruise. Okay?”

_ This is fucking ridiculous.  _ Peter nodded tersely.

“Okay,” Steve said.

Bucky got up from his place in front of Peter, pushing the chair back into its place in the desk. He nodded at Steve before quietly excusing himself from the room. 

“What he didn’t feel the need to watch?” Peter bit out.

“No, Peter he didn’t. We figured you would be much more comfortable without him in the room.”  _ Comfortable. _ “Now enough back talk. Stand up.” Peter glared at Steve, quietly refusing his command.

“ _ Now, _ ” Steve barked, his facial expression hardening. Reluctantly, Peter stood up.

“Unbutton your jeans,” Steve said, tone lightening just the slightest bit, but still holding onto his authoritative tone. Peter’s hand hovered around his button for a few moments before he gained the courage to unbutton his pants. “Zipper too.”  _ This guy can’t be serious. _ Peter complied.

“Come stand by my side.” Peter walked around to Steve’s right side, looking away from the man’s gaze. Steve gripped the kid’s upper hip lightly but firmly, working his jeans down his thighs about halfway down with his other hand. Peter’s eyes widened and he pushed Steve’s hands away on instinct. 

“What the  _ fuck? _ ”

Steve sighed. “Peter, that’s enough. Now get over my lap. Now.”

Peter’s hands shook by his sides, but he slowly made his way over the man’s lap anyways, his face growing red already.

“Now you already know why you’re here, so I’ll spare you another lecture.” And the first smack came.

It was muffled by the kid’s boxers, but fuck, it  _ hurt. _ Peter squirmed, trying to get away from the next hit but was unsuccessful. Steve steadied him with a hand around his waist, keeping him still enough to continue the barrage of hits against his backside. 

Steve landed hit after hit, slap after slap, to Peter’s clothed backside, the harsh sting making Peter let out involuntary hisses every so often. He couldn’t make any more noise than that. He wouldn’t give Steve the satisfaction. But it was getting harder and harder as Steve’s hand continued to cover his already sore ass. Peter thought he had a handle on the pain and was ready for this to end until Steve paused. At first Peter thought it was over, but Steve’s hands were on the waistband of his boxers and  _ shit, no _ he couldn’t take it. 

“Wait, wait! No please don’t-”

“Peter. Enough. Lift up.” Peter squirmed, struggled, bucked his hips, but Steve slapped the juncture between his cheeks and his thighs, and  _ fuck _ that hurt so much. Peter stilled. Steve worked the boxers down his thighs, and  _ god _ Peter’s face had to be bright red by then. Steve began to land slaps again.

Being smacked on his boxers was nothing compared to being smacked on his bare ass. The hits were sharp and Peter thought he could still feel Steve’s hand several moments after the hit had landed. 

It was getting harder to keep in his noises, occasional gasps and yelps escaping Peter’s mouth. It wasn’t until Steve began to focus primarily on that juncture between his thighs and his butt that the tears that were pooled in Peter’s eyes began to fall and the sobs weren’t far away after that. His ass was raw, red without a doubt, and Peter was just so tired. He couldn’t fight anymore. 

After a few more slaps, Peter went limp, sobbing quietly into the bedspread, overwhelmed with the pain and feelings of guilt. Steve stopped immediately. 

The kid was so engrossed in his tears that he hadn’t even realized that Steve had stopped and was rubbing his back in gentle circles and speaking soft words of comfort to him.   


“It’s okay, buddy we’re done. It’s over. Just let it out.” And that was all Peter could really do; let his tears run their course. After a little while of crying, Peter remembered his situation and the fact that he was still laying over Steve’s lap with his entire ass out. He whimpered quietly, reaching his hands back to pull his boxers back up. Steve, helpful as ever helped him, pulling up his boxers and helping the kid out of his jeans. He gently moved Peter to lay on his stomach on the bed, still rubbing his back and trying to soothe his tears. 

“Hey, buddy. How are you doing?” His voice was tender and soft, and he was clearly trying to approach Peter as nicely as possible. Peter sniffed, trying to work up the courage to say something.

“It hurts,” was all he was able to get out, his throat scratchy and dry from crying so hard. His nose was stuffed up and he had a pounding headache. 

“I know, bud. I’m sorry.” Steve was being sympathetic. Which was surprising considering the attitude Peter had put up just minutes before. “Do you want some water?” Peter nodded, grateful. Steve patted his back softly before getting up from his place on the bed and leaving the room to grab the water. 

He came back a few minutes later with a bottle of water and helped Peter sit up so he could drink it.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Peter hissed out unintentionally. He looked at Steve with wide eyes. “Um, I mean. Uh.”

Steve just chuckled. “It’s okay, bud. I know it hurts.” He handed the bottle to Peter who gulped about half the bottle down in one go. He sniffled in the snot that had accumulated from the crying and took a deep breath.

“Steve,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, Pete?”

“I’m sorry,” the kid began. “I shouldn’t have skipped class and I shouldn’t have said that stuff to you and Bucky.” Steve nodded.

“I accept your apology.” Steve moved a bit closer, tentatively wrapping his arm around Peter’s shoulders. The kid was stiff still, but he didn’t exactly make a move to evade Steve’s affection. Steve rubbed Peter’s arm. 

“We do still have a few things to discuss, though. And I’d like Bucky to be here while we do.” Peter sighed. He had really embarrassed himself in front of Bucky for the second time and he’d not even been in their house for a week. “C’mon. Let’s go downstairs and we’ll talk.” Steve got up from the bed and made his way to the doorframe, waiting patiently while Peter got up. He was about to follow Steve out the door when he remembered he was standing there with no pants on. 

“Um, Steve?”

Steve turned around. “Yeah?”

“Do you have, um, sweatpants or anything?” Peter felt so embarrassed asking, but he couldn’t bear the thought of having to put his rough jeans back on. “Yeah, of course! I’ve got a pair in my room hold on.” And Steve walked down the hall to his room to retrieve the pants leaving Peter with his thoughts.

_ I cannot fucking believe… Why?  _

It wasn’t the fact that he had been spanked that Peter was so unsure of, rather why he wasn’t angrier about it. He had effectively let a man three times his size beat his ass and he had barely put up a fight. He’d even  _ apologized.  _ The kid knew he was in the wrong, but it’d been a long time since he felt vulnerable enough to even admit to his wrongdoings.  _ Steve and Bucky just have that effect I guess. _

“They might be a couple sizes too big but I think they’ll be more comfortable than your jeans.” Steve re-entered the room, pulling Peter back to the present holding a pair of grey sweatpants that did in fact look several sizes too big. Peter accepted them and tied them at the waist with the drawstrings and rolled them up to his ankles to make sure they didn’t drag on the floor.

“Alright, buddy. Let’s go.” 

As he walked down the stairs and entered the living room where Bucky was watching a rerun of a baseball game, Peter felt it was impossible to be more embarrassed. He had been such a shit towards Bucky and he didn’t feel ready to have to apologize  _ again _ for being ridiculous. Bucky paused the tv and shifted in his seat in his armchair to face Steve and Peter where they had sat down on the couch next to each other (Peter sitting rather stiffly, definitely uncomfortable). 

“So, we’ve got some things to discuss, don’t we?” Steve’s question wasn’t exactly a question, Peter thought to himself, but didn’t interrupt as he continued. “We know you skipped school, Peter, but you still haven’t told us why.”

“And before you start talking, kid, don’t give us that ‘I didn’t want to’ shit. Because no one here believes it.” Steve gave Bucky a sharp look at his language, but still turned to Peter to hear his response.

“Well, uh,” Peter stuttered a bit. “It’s just. It’s stupid. And it’s not a good reason,” he mumbled, not daring to make eye contact with either of the men sitting in front of him. Steve and Bucky both deflated at Peter’s comment, Steve’s face taking on a sympathetic appearance.

“Pete, I promise you neither of us will think it’s stupid. We won’t laugh in your face, but we can’t help you if you don’t tell us what’s wrong.” Peter sighed. 

“It’s just, when I was walking into the school I just felt so nervous. My hands were shaking and I felt nauseous and I just couldn’t do it. It was too much. So I just didn’t go. And that was it.”

Bucky’s face contorted in a curious manner. “Does that happen to you often?”  _ What? _

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, do you feel like that often? Where your hands shake and you feel out of breath and stuff. Does it happen a lot?” Peter took a second to think about Bucky’s question. He didn’t know about often, but it had definitely happened more than just a couple times.

“Well, I mean. It doesn’t happen every day, but. Yeah, it happens sometimes.” 

Bucky took a second, looking like he was choosing his words very carefully. “Kid, I think you might need to see someone about this.”

“What, like a therapist?” Peter shot back, already feeling kind of offended. “I’m not crazy.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “No one said you were, kid. But you’ve clearly got some unresolved anxiety and it would be best if we got that checked out.” When Peter still looked unsure and a bit perturbed, Bucky leaned in speaking a bit more softly. “You know Steve and I both go to therapy right?” Peter couldn’t hold back the look of shock on his face. 

“What do you mean?”

Bucky chuckled softly. “We both see a therapist once every two weeks, kid.”

“I don’t understand. Why do you see a therapist?”

Bucky sat back a bit. “Well aside from the fact that we’ve both got PTSD and I’ve got Major Depressive Disorder, it’s just a good thing to speak to someone privately and objectively whether you’ve got a history of mental illness or not.”

Peter was blown away. _They both have PTSD?_ _From what?_ They both looked completely fine. They were in a beautiful house that had to cost a fortune, they were in what appeared to be a happy marriage, they didn’t seem like the type to need therapy. Nevermind what that type was exactly.

“And trust me, kid. It’s not going to be easy. It’s incredibly difficult to even figure out that you’ve got a problem. And working through the problem is no cakewalk, but it’s very necessary. And we’re here to help you. And that includes getting you help that we can’t provide ourselves. So even if it’s not tomorrow or next week or even next month, please consider letting us set you up an appointment for therapy, okay?”

Peter considered this for a moment. He didn’t really feel ready to go to therapy right that second. He was barely settled into yet another new home, barely familiar with brand new people, a brand new way of living. But on the other hand Bucky was right. There were a lot of things that he couldn’t ever tell anyone, not even Sam. So maybe it would be good to tell someone. At least someday. He nodded his head.

“I’ll think about it.” 

Steve smiled. “That’s great, Peter. I know it’s been hard. I think I speak for myself and Bucky when I say we’re very proud of you, buddy.”

_ Wow. _

“Uh, I uh- thanks?” Peter squeaked. He hadn’t really expected that.

“You’re very welcome, Pete. Now why don’t we go ahead and have dinner? Bucky made stew.” Peter nodded. He wasn’t really looking forward to sitting on hardwood chairs for a while, but he was glad that the couple didn’t seem to harbor ill feelings towards him. They never seemed to, despite Peter’s many shortcomings. 

Dinner was nice, although Peter was definitely embarrassed when Steve set down a pillow for him to sit on.  _ “Your punishment’s over, bud. No reason to keep going on it,” _ he had said. And there it was again. His overwhelming sense of compassion. Peter had no doubt that if his other foster parents believed in spanking children they would never be as sensible about it as Steve and Bucky. Peter did not like being spanked at all. He would never have liked to repeat it. And he would try not to. But he couldn’t deny the fact that at no point in that whole endeavour did he feel unsafe or like Steve and Bucky were being ridiculously unfair or cruel. And it was truly intriguing. But what was more important to Peter was the care that he was being shown constantly in that house. 

Simple things like asking how his day had gone even though he had been skipping school, asking if he wanted seconds, asking what he wanted for breakfast in the morning, even Steve giving Peter his phone back, saying that his punishment was long over, that he was forgiven. It was truly fucking crazy compared to what Peter had experienced before in his life. It was a bit of a heavy topic to be pondering right before bed, Peter thought sheepishly to himself. But he couldn’t help it; this was by far the best house he’d ever stayed in (even though his ass was still hurting like crazy). 

Lying on his stomach, Peter buried his face into his pillow, letting the feeling of being cared for, being cherished wash over him. He had to repay Steve and Bucky for this, he had to.  _ Actually going to school would make a good start. _

So he let himself drift off, uncaring of the consequences that would follow going to school in the morning, the thought of repaying his debts to Steve and Bucky fresh in his brain. They were so good to him.

He owed them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew another chapter! i hope y'all like it! and pls let me know what you'd like to see from this fic in the future! i've got a few ideas but i want to hear urs too!
> 
> as always you can find me at spiderfoool on tumblr! (3 o's lol)
> 
> and merry christmas for those of y'all who celebrate! and an extended happy holidays! <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Alright, grab your stuff let's go.” He said, unbuckling his seatbelt and grabbing his jacket from the back.  
> Peter looked over in confusion. “Wait, what?”   
> “No offense kid, but after your disappearing act yesterday I kinda need to make sure you actually make it this time. So let’s go.” Peter groaned.  
> “Bucky, I’m sixteen. I don’t need to be walked into class like a kindergartner.” Bucky just rolled his eyes in response.  
> “Well too bad because you’re going to. Now let’s go,” and he was already opening his door and walking towards the front office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all! i've finally finished this chapter! i've been so busy with school so sorry that this took ages lol
> 
> anyways, enjoy the chapter!

Peter awoke once again to an insistent shaking to his shoulder and someone’s gruff morning voice telling him to wake up. He rolled over onto his back, trying to cover his face with his pillow which was definitely a bad idea. He yelped, rolling onto his side, not wanting to aggravate his still irritated ass and opened his eyes.

“You up, kid?” The gruff voice belonged to Bucky. He was dressed in black sweatpants and a black t-shirt that read  _ Howling Commandos Bar est. 1945  _ in a white font reminiscent of t-shirts displaying university names. His hair was tied up in a bun but it was messy, a few strands falling down, frizzy and framing his face. He looked very homely. Peter sat up, ignoring the pain in his ass and facing Bucky. 

“Yeah I’m up.” His voice was scratchy sounding, sleep still present in his tone. 

“Okay, good. You gotta get dressed and eat breakfast, we gotta leave in like 30 minutes. I’m driving you to school today, Steve had to leave early for a VA thing.” It was then that Peter realized he hadn’t even asked either of them what they did for a living. Huh. Peter nodded, getting out of bed and heading to the bathroom to get ready. Within a few minutes he was dressed in his old, patchy jeans and a geeky t-shirt with a blue collared short sleeve over it and heading downstairs to eat.

There was a plate already made for him with waffles, butter, syrup, and fruit with a yellow sticky note sitting next to it. He picked it up and read it, a whole wave of emotions washing over him.

_ Sorry I wasn’t here to take you to school this morning, I had to run out for work early this morning. Bucky will take you to school today and I’ll pick you up when school lets out. Have a good day!  _

_ \- Steve <3 _

This man was way too nice for his own good. He even left a heart at the end of the note for chrissakes. 

Peter sighed, sitting down to eat his breakfast and trying not to dwell on the fact that he hadn’t been too good to Steve and Bucky. He enjoyed his breakfast in silence, Bucky not making an appearance until around twenty minutes to 9. When he entered the kitchen he looked much more presentable than before, wearing a white button down obscuring the tattoo sleeve on his left arm with black slacks and shiny black dress shoes, a matching black suit jacket slung over his shoulder. His hair appeared to have been brushed and blown out, looking flawless as it hung down over his shoulders. He looked great. 

“You look nice,” Peter commented, eyes on Bucky as he quickly made himself a cup of coffee, pouring it into a travel cup. Bucky turned around and flashed him a dazzling smile.

“Thanks kid,” he took a swig of what had to be scalding hot coffee. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah, I just need to grab my bag and my shoes.”

“Alright, I’ll be in the car.” And with that he was off to the garage, grabbing his keys from the bowl on the counter, a jangling noise permeating the air. Peter grabbed his plate, scrapping the remains of his food in the trash before putting his plate and fork in the dishwasher. He wasn’t going to leave a mess for Bucky and Steve to clean up, he was trying to be better after all. He jogged up the stairs, grabbing his backpack before coming back down the stairs, toeing into his sneakers and entering the garage where Bucky was sitting in the driver’s seat of his much sexier shiny black Dodge Charger tapping mindlessly at his phone. He opened the back seat door, throwing his bag in the back before hopping in the passenger seat. Bucky set down his phone and opened the garage door with a clicker. He put the car in reverse and turned to Peter.

“We’re a little late today, but I’ll try to get you there on time.” And well, Steve and Bucky definitely had a lot in common when it came to driving. Bucky drove incredibly fast, putting his car’s speed to his advantage, making yellow lights that he definitely should’ve never been able to. Peter clutched the safety bar above his door, trying not to react too brashly to Bucky’s chaotic driving. 

Within fifteen minutes they had made it to Midtown High and Peter glanced at the clock on the dashboard noting that he was actually on time. Damn. Bucky put the car in park. 

“Alright, grab your stuff let's go.” He said, unbuckling his seatbelt and grabbing his jacket from the back.

Peter looked over in confusion. “Wait, what?” 

“No offense kid, but after your disappearing act yesterday I kinda need to make sure you actually make it this time. So let’s go.” Peter groaned.

“Bucky, I’m  _ sixteen _ . I don’t need to be walked into class like a kindergartner.” Bucky just rolled his eyes in response.

“Well too bad because you’re going to. Now let’s go,” and he was already opening his door and walking towards the front office. 

Peter sighed, finally opening his door and grabbing his things from the back, jogging lightly to catch up to Bucky who was standing by the front door of the office and holding it open for Peter. As they came in the receptionist barely acknowledged them, only looking up briefly before going back to her computer. Bucky cleared his throat.

“Uh, hi. I need to see Ms. Carter?” The receptionist finally looked up.

“Ms. Carter is currently in a conference. What’s your name?”   


“James Barnes. This is my kid, Peter Parker. She told me to just ask for her when we got here.”

“Oh, I see. Mr. Barnes. She wrote a note for me. Alright then, follow me.” She stood up, leading the way down the hallway of the office. They passed by several open doors, people on phones, people making copies, a few wayward kids waiting to be reprimanded; standard high school office fare. They stopped at a door labeled  _ James Morita, Principal _ on a shiny gold plated plaque. The receptionist knocked twice before opening the door. 

Inside the office sat a man with black hair at his desk and a blonde woman sitting in one of the chairs in front of the desk chatting amicably. They both looked like they knew each other well and were pleased to be in each other’s presence. And that only improved when they saw who was standing in the doorway.

“Hey, Bucky! So nice to see you again,” the man said, with a humorous glint in his eyes. Bucky chuckled and rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, Jim, what’s it been? A whole week since I seen that ugly mug?” The man laughed.

“Yeah, yeah whatever. I look  _ great _ , thanks. Now, let's get down to business.” He turned his gaze to Peter. “Welcome to Midtown, Peter. Why don’t you have a seat and we can get you all settled for the day.”

Peter nodded, taking off his bag and sitting in the chair next to the blonde woman who smiled gently at him.

“I see here in your file that you’re sixteen and you’re in the eleventh grade?”

“Y-yeah, uh, yes sir.”  _ What am I so nervous for? _

“And I’ve got your grades here from your last few schools, and Peter I have to say. I’m impressed.” The man smiled up at him. “And this isn’t to say I’m not impressed with all my students. But you’re definitely one of the best I’ve seen here. Straight A’s since kindergarten. That’s very impressive.”

“Thanks.” Peter couldn’t seem to make his voice louder than a whisper.

“You’re very welcome. Now, Ms. Carter over here has your schedule and she’s gonna go ahead and go over that with you in her office.” The blonde woman smiled at him. “So I’ll catch up with you around the end of the day so we can see how you’re doing.” Peter nodded.

Ms. Carter stood up, Peter following. She looked at Bucky.   


“Don’t look so nervous, Barnes, you know he’s in good hands here.” Peter looked over at Bucky. He  _ did  _ look nervous. He ran a hand through his beautifully styled hair, somehow not even messing it up but making it look artfully mussed.

“I know, Sharon. This part is just always nerve wracking for me.” He turned to Peter. “Alright, kid. I gotta go to work now, but Steve’s gonna pick you up when you’re done. You’re gonna be okay.” Peter snorted.

“You sound like you’re trying to assure yourself, not me.” He gave Bucky a shiteating grin. Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Maybe I’m more nervous than you. Whatever. You just be good, okay?” 

“I’ll do my best.”

Bucky quirked an eyebrow at him. “If you wanna get in anymore trouble be my guest. But don’t expect Steve to be happy picking you up from detention.” Peter chuckled despite knowing exactly what that meant. 

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Yes, I do.” The man stepped closer, wrapping his arms tight around Peter, much to the boy’s shock.  _ We’re already at the hugging stage? _ “I know you’ll be good. Just call me or Steve if you need anything.” He stepped back, putting his hands on Peter’s shoulders. 

“Good luck today, alright kid?” Peter nodded and Bucky nodded to himself. 

“Alright Jim, I’ll see you around.” He nodded at Ms. Carter. “Sharon.” And with that he was gone, off to whatever it was he did for work. Peter couldn’t help but stare after him after he was gone. He was  _ definitely  _ more nervous about this than he was letting on with Bucky. 

“Alright, Peter, let’s go ahead and take a walk.” Ms. Carter put a light hand on his shoulder, steering him out of Morita’s office and down the hall of the office.

“I know Mr. Morita said we’d be going to my office, but I’d rather just show you around while we go over your schedule; it’ll be better that you know where things are.” She led them down another corridor to a set of doors, pushing the bar to let them out and holding the door for Peter.

“As you can see we’ve got a few buildings here. Cafeteria there, science building there, English and social studies there, math over there,” she described, pointing out the various buildings. “Your first period today is AP Chemistry. After that you’ve got AP US History, then lunch then you’ve got AP English and then art class.” She pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket. “Here’s your schedule in case you need it.”

Peter took the piece of paper, staring at it instead of at Ms. Carter. “Uh, thanks.” She smiled brightly at him.

“You’re very welcome. Now let’s get you to Chemistry.”

The walk to the chemistry lab Peter’s class resided in was short and profoundly silent, Peter too nervous to say anything and Ms. Carter clearly not having anything else to say. Much too soon for Peter’s liking they reached a door and Ms. Carter stopped, peering into the window on the door. 

“They haven’t started yet, so you can go ahead and slip in before they start. I won’t embarrass you by walking you in.” Peter nodded, still not making eye contact with the woman. “Look, Peter,” she started, ducking her head a bit to force eye contact with the boy.

“I can’t begin to imagine what you’ve been through in life and even in the past few days. If you need anything, and I mean  _ anything _ . Don’t hesitate to come to my office. Okay?”

Peter stared at her for a second, wanting to just reject her offer without any qualms, wanting to say something off the cuff and disrespectful, but he stopped himself. He just nodded and gave her a quick thanks before opening the door and closing off the conversation. 

As he walked into the lab it seemed like all the eyes in the room were on him. He had no idea what to do or what to say, and panic began to creep in. Peter was about to dive headfirst into complete anxiety when his teacher came out of what looked to be a storage room behind the demonstration table at the front of the room. 

“Ah, Mr. Parker! Nice of you to join us. My name is Mrs. Swan, and you can go ahead and sit next to Ned over there in the back.” She pointed at a chubby caramel skin toned kid in the back who was turned to Peter and gave him an enthusiastic wave. Huh.

Peter awkwardly made his way over to the lab station, putting his bag next him on the ground and sitting on one of the uncomfortable stools often found in these labs. It wasn’t even a second into Mrs. Swan getting into the lesson before Ned was excitedly introducing himself.

“Hey, I’m Ned! Er, I guess you know my name already. And I know yours. But anyways, welcome to Midtown High! It’s kinda weird to see someone transfer this late into the year, so like, what’s your deal? Not that I’m trying to be rude or anything, I’m not, just curious.”

Peter gave the kid an odd look. Was he really asking?

“Uh, I just moved so I had to transfer here.” Peter deliberately left out the information about him being a foster kid and being placed in a new home, Ned would definitely think he was a freak and never want to speak to him again.

“Oh, nice! Do you live near here? I’m like a couple subway stops away.”

“Uh, yeah, kinda. I usually get driven to school, though.” 

“Ooo, cars. Fancy. I’ve been dying to learn how to drive but my mom refuses, she keeps saying I’m not responsible enough for New York City driving and like I get it but I also don’t because like-”

“Mr. Leeds?” Ned’s head snapped up. “Do you have the answer?”

“Uh, I,”

“That’s what I thought. You and Mr. Parker, see me after class.”  _ Shit. _

Ned just sighed, rolling his eyes. He took out a piece of loose leaf paper, scribbling on it with a pen. He angled it so Peter could see.

_ She’s always extra like this lol _

_ Sorry I got you in trouble so quick _

Peter grabbed a pen sitting next to the paper, scribbling a note of his own.

_ Don’t worry about it _

Ned smiled, writing one last time. 

_ Can we exchange phone numbers? _

Peter was a bit shocked for a second. This Ned kid had already been so nice for no reason at all, and now it was almost as if he was trying to be Peter’s friend.  _ I really hope this doesn’t come back to bite me. _

Peter scribbled his phone number down on the page and sneakily put Ned’s in his phone while Ned did the same. Ned smiled at Peter before turning back to the lesson, actually trying to pay attention. 

Chemistry was usually something that Peter found interesting and he usually would’ve made an effort to pay attention. But he was too tied up in thinking about this Ned kid to even try to pay attention to the complex diagrams Ms. Swan was drawing on the board. He was so friendly and seemed like he was actually a super nice guy. He was super chatty and tended to ramble, but it was just endearing. And he was actually interested in Peter. That was a first. 

Peter thought on this throughout the class, paying so little attention that he was almost startled by the bell ringing to signal the class was over. Peter was almost about to get up and leave when Ms. Swan walked up to his and Ned’s lab table, an annoyed look on her face. She cleared her throat.

“I hope whatever you two were talking about was much more important than my lesson because you certainly missed quite a bit of it,” she scolded. “Mr. Parker, you’ve only been with us a day, so you don’t know much about how we do things. But I can assure you that talking in the middle of class isn’t acceptable at any school and I do not tolerate it in my class. So I’m going to let you off with a warning.” She turned to Ned.

“Mr. Leeds, you know better. You’ve got detention after school today.” Ned sighed, blinking to conceal rolling his eyes.

“Well you two better get to your classes.”

And with that she walked back to her desk, paying the two boys no mind. The pair gathered their belongings and stepped into the hallway.

“God, Ned, I’m so sorry! I can’t believe she gave you detention for that.”

“Dude, don’t even worry about it. It was my fault anyways. So what class do you have up next?”

The two shared a friendly walk that was as nice as a walk as it could be considering the loudness and crowdedness of a typical high school hallway. Ned even walked with Peter all the way to his next class. The two were still talking as the bell rang.

“Oh, shit! I gotta go. But hey, you should come sit with me and my friends at lunch today,” Ned suggested jovially.

Peter had to hide a look of shock. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure that sounds great.”

“Alright, cool! I’ll see you in a bit then!” Ned gave Peter a little wave as he took off briskly down the hallway, trying not to be too late for his next class. 

Peter couldn’t help but think he was being naive, letting someone break down his walls so quickly, but Ned was so nice and seemed so genuine he couldn’t help it.  _ Maybe I’ve actually made a friend _ , Peter thought, stepping quietly into his classroom and preparing himself to actually pay attention to this lecture. 

* * *

The rest of Peter’s first day at school passed without much excitement. He sat with Ned and his friends at lunch, went to his two other classes, and for some reason the girl that sat kind of with Ned and his group and kind of not was staring at him throughout art class. She didn’t really talk much at lunch (she never introduced herself), but Peter couldn’t be too worried about it. He was too busy texting Ned, even as Steve’s car pulled up to the curb.

“Hey, buddy! How was school?” Steve asked as Peter got in the front seat, sounding nervous but excited at the same time.

The kid barely looked up from his phone. “Uh, good. It was good.”

“That’s really nice! What classes did you have today?”

Peter got through the first round of questions Steve threw at him regarding his day with minimally worded answers, not once looking up from his phone to look at Steve. The man tried his best to pay it no mind but when Peter started laughing at whatever was on his phone his curiosity got the best of him.

“Hey, what’s so funny?”

Peter finally looked up. “Huh? Oh, it’s nothing. You wouldn’t get it.” 

Steve raised an eyebrow, taking his eyes off the road momentarily to look at Peter.

“Yeah, okay. Who’re you talking to?”

“Just a friend.”

“And does this friend have a name?”

“Yeah. Ned.”

“Hm.” Steve nodded to himself and stayed silent for the rest of the ride, content to let Peter continue to text his new friend. Soon enough, they pulled into the garage and Steve turned the car off and took the keys out of the ignition. Peter was about to grab his backpack and get out of the car, but Steve stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“You know, bud, I’m really proud of you for today.” He looked into Peter’s eyes, a soft smile appearing on his face.

“Why?” The kid just looked confused. He didn’t really do anything.

“Well, going to a new school is hard, as I’m sure you know. And you’ve already made a new friend. You’re doing really well. So I’m proud of you.”

Peter could feel heat rise in his cheeks. “T-thanks,” he squeaked.

Steve patted his shoulder and promptly got out of the car, leaving Peter for a brief moment. 

The kid couldn’t tell if Steve was just dramatic, or if he had actually done something worth being proud of that day. But Steve was right. It was hard to get through yet another first day of a new school, and it never seemed to get any easier. Peter didn’t know much, but what he did know was it definitely felt good to be praised by Steve. Whether he wanted to admit that to himself or not was another question for another day. But for that moment, he was perfectly fine with just getting out of the car and entering the house, ready to live another day and Steve and Bucky’s house. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for reading! you can find me on tumblr at spiderfoool (three o's) and comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!


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